Riches |The inheritance games|

Chapter 99

Dog Days are Over by Florence + The Machine 

So you better run. Run fast for your Mother, run fast for your Father run for your children for your sisters and brothers. Leave all your love and your longing behind, you can't carry it with you if you want to survive.

"Heighten your leg Rooney!" My teacher calls out furiously. The music continues playing. I'm sweating so hard I could explode. My face is red and my hair is sticking to my forehead. 

Everyone in my ballet class watches as I rehearse my solo in the show. The music pauses and I start to bring my leg down from above my head. 

"No! You stay there." She orders fiercely. I blink and keep my leg up.

My teacher approaches me, "Stretch!" She yells right in my face. I flinch and force my leg up straighter.

"I can't go any farther." I insist. I'm on pointe which makes this harder, and the fact she isn't letting me use the barré. My leg is already straight in the air extremely high. 

She takes my heel in her hand and my opposite shoulder in the other, she pushes both hands in like magnets. I let out a whimper of pain at the painful stretching.

"Hold it." She orders, letting go of my leg now directly vertical to my body without my body bending. 

I bite my cheek to hold it. I feel tears clouding my vision at the pain. I blink quicker until they disappear. 

She makes me stay like this for a total of two minutes, has people take photos to show her other students in the years above to embarrass them.

She finally lets me come down and the second I close my legs everything aches. I let put an audible wince at the burn but continue my solo when she plays my song.

"Stop! What are those turns." She yells. I hide my frustration when she tells me to do turns.

"You know in Swan Lake, Odile performs 32 fouettés? I want you to do 50 at minimum." She doesn't even let me breathe before playing the music.

I take a deep breath, get into position, prep and begin. My turns are probably my weaker point. I'm not awful but they're not as good as they could be. I get to 12 before doubting myself. My whole class cheer for me. The classical opera music sings in my ears.

I try to focus my balance and breathing. When I reach 25 I almost give up, "Change spot." My teacher calls out.

So instead of facing the mirror I turn my spotting towards the wall behind me. 30. 31. 32.

I'm going to pass out. I know it. I'm dizzy and ready to drop.

I reach 45. My classmates start counting down the last five. "Keep going." My teacher instructs once I reach 50. So i do. I even get to 64 before almost sliding so I finish it off with simple pirouettes. 

The second I come to a stop everyone begins cheering and screaming, "Impressive." My teacher comments, which means a lot from her. Some students start posting and texting out the videos they took.

I hold my stomach in attempt to refrain from vomiting. The loud telephone starts ringing and whilst our teacher answers it I get the chance to finally breathe and wipe the sweat from my face.

"Miss Rooney." My teacher calls out remorsefully from the telephone.

I look over and furrow my brows. "Unfortunately I have been informed there has been a family death and you will be flying home. I have 'Xander' on the line here?" She says compassionately.